Gravity
by the-thread-unwound
Summary: Steve brought an imaginary gun to his temple and pulled the trigger several times. Once for being weak. Twice for being too strong. And one more time just in-case the serum was trying to do its job. In other words gravity is working overtime and Steve can't seem to keep his head above water. Tony swears that he'll be there. But the journey isn't an easy one. (Warning: Angst)


A/N Needed to get a few things off my chest. Review if you want more. Depressed/ lost/ sad Steve. Comforting Tony.

A bowl slowly rolled from Tony's hands and bound carefully towards Steve. Steve simply watched as gravity did it's eternal job and the bowl tipped from the table onto the ground. The bowl shattered and Steve didn't even flinch at the sound nor the glass that now surrounded his bare feet. He looked up and noticed vaguely that Tony was staring at him. He tilted his head left and the rest of the Avengers stared at him with concerned curiosity. The air was too thick, and suppressed emotions and concerns failed to fall from any of their lips. Steve looked down and realized that his hands had somehow grasped Natasha's gun that she hid under the kitchen table. The gun was upturned in a confusing way that no one, **not even Steve,** knew who he was trying to shoot at. Steve released the gun and let it fall onto the table with a adamant thud. And Clint shot the silence with a joke laced with innuendos that Steve could not understand. _(What could he understand in the 21st century? Death, loss and Decay)_ Surprisingly enough Tony was the only one who stayed silent, continuing his endless gaze towards the soldier. Steve shot the silence next with a hollow laugh that caused everyone to shoot their heads towards him once again. And suddenly Steve was on his feet, glass from the broken bowl crushing mercilessly into his flesh. With an elastic smile now stitched on his face, Steve walked carefully to the elevator. Blood followed Steve's every step and the shot through silence rang in his ears. Once the elevator door shut behind him, Steve slammed onto the button to his room and wailed a heart wrenching cry that resembled the sound he made when his body hit the lonely ocean floor all those years ago. And a passive expression returned once the door opened. And there stood Tony, standing there waiting for him patiently as if he held endless time between his greasy fingertips. And there stood Steve, hands betraying him as they gave off steady tremors. "Steve," Tony said. **Steve**. Not Captain Spangles, not Captain Stick-up-my-ass or Capsicle. Just Steve. And without a single crack to his resolute posture, Steve darted into his room. Tony called his name again with much more force added. And the lock of Steve's door was the only answer.

* * *

Tony walked back with less confident saunter. His steps stuttered to a stop. "Jarvis. I want you give me reports…"

"On what sir?

Tony should have stopped there and not say the name that so effortlessly left his lips. Hell, should have told Jarvis to report him on how his new experiment testing String Theory was going. Fuck, even asking Jarvis to report him on Fury's sex life would have been better. But no, Tony's mouth which never swayed or gave any hesitance had failed him completely when he stuttered out, "S-Steve," Clearing his throat he tried again with much more force, "Steve Rodgers." And the AI gave a hesitant, almost resentful affirmative "Very Well Sir." And with that Tony continued towards his lab. Queen blasted ruthlessly from his speakers and just as a killer guitar riff was going to begin and just as he began to split a molecule. Jarvis stopped the music, "Sir, I believe Mr. Rogers has requested me to "do the thing"."

Tony jerked back and groaned as the molecule combusted, "Jarvis what does that even mean?"

Jarvis snipped back, "Sir whenever Mr Rogers is feeling particularly low, he requests me to project images of Peggy and Bucky on the mirror and mimic their voices so they can comfort him. I believe that it is a safe assumption to say that this is because he feels like he has no one in this time period that trusts him"

Tony's mouth slacked open and his mouth strung together meaningless sentences.

* * *

Steve shot from the bed, sweat pooling from his body and rain falling from his eyes. Steve scrambled to the mirror staring in disgust at how broken he looked. He sighed. "Jarvis can you...do the thing"

Without words Jarvis projected Peggy and Bucky onto the large mirror. Peggy spoke softly, "Steve you don't look well. Are you okay?"

Steve nodded for a few seconds before shaking his head no. Peggy smiled sadly, "That's okay. It's okay to not be happy all the time."

Bucky added, "Punk you've had to be strong for all of your life, you haven't had a break, your whole life has been a battle. If you weren't battling your asthma you were battling bullies. If you weren't fighting bullies you were fighting Nazi's. And now you're fighting yourself"

With that Steve muttered, "I want a break, I don't want any more wars. There has been so much war! I miss my mom, I miss Howard. I miss my you guys. I WANT TO GO HOME."

 _(You have no home)_

"It's okay, were here….you can…you can cry if you want to."

Steve sat upright and claimed, "I won't cry."

He jumped up from the ground and cracked his knuckles twice, "There isn't time for crying. This is war."

Peggy mused thoughtfully, "It isn't war right now, you can rest now, Steve"

"There's always a fucking war Peggy, don't you understand? There are no breaks. I'm an eternal soldier. A voice inquired smoothly, " _a slave to man kind?"_

Steve shook the foreign voice out of his head. Steve brought an imaginary gun to his temple and pulled the trigger several times. Once for being weak. Twice for being too strong. And one more time just incase the serum was trying to do its job. Steve screamed himself hoarse until he couldn't hear Peggy and Bucky's sweet comforts. Seeing red, Steve pounded onto the glass, destroying the fabricated images of Peggy and Bucky. This wasn't his Peggy because she didn't even recognize his face anymore, and it wasn't his Bucky because this Bucky was much too kind and sensitive. His Bucky _was_ caring yet didn't take Steve's self pitying bullshit. His Bucky _now_ , wanted to destroy him. Fists now bleeding, he stared at the broken mirror in horror

"What's wrong with me?"

Jarvis answered solemnly, "Sir may I advise you to talk to a therapist? Or for short term assistance Mr. Stark?"  
Steve bit his tongue and willed a elastic smile to grow onto his face. He cleaned himself up steadily and strolled from his room. Running into Clint he stated conversationally, "Team strategy meeting in the next two hours."

Clint smiled and blessed whatever god that existed that things were starting to look up for his team mates. Hell, what could go wrong?

A/N welp theres alot going to go wrong. Review if you want


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